Writer's Block
by Tribble Master
Summary: What does a witch, a ferret, and a wenidgo have a common? I don't know, but Sam and Dean are writing fanfiction.
1. Let's Write Fanfiction

**challenge issued by: 494dwangel  
****  
Disclaimer: I do not own them**

A/N: Archie is mine. He's Chuck's gaurdian angel and he's also a jerk. First apperance was in WINchester FAQ

Writer's Block

Archie, the red haired mischievous archangel, sat in front of Chuck's computer. His charge was passed out again somewhere in the house. After hours and hours of being used as a muse, a beta, and a bar wench Archie was tired of dealing with Chuck's shit.

After a moment's hesitation he began to type.

He grinned as the story bloomed to life on his computer. Writing wasn't that hard, he smiled, what the hell was Chuck complaining about so often?

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"I'm fine, Sam!" Dean protested loudly before breaking out into a coughing fit.

"Right." Sam rolled his eyes and opened a new box of tissues. "Then why were you puking two minutes ago?"

Dean glared at Sam and started to get up. Sam shook his head and placed a firm hand on his shoulder, forcing Dean to lie back down. "Stay put." He commanded as he pulled the blanket over.

"Sam… I do not approve of this." He wiggled under the sheets and stifled back a sneeze. "At all."

Sam picked up the car keys and sighed. "Look, I'm just going to go to the laundry mat. I'll be back in a couple of hours, okay?"

"Fine." Dean grumbled. "Hand me the TV remote."

Sam looked around the room. "Erm…"

"What?!" Dean snapped.

"It's not here… I think you broke it, remember?" Sam shrugged.

Dean remembered briefly throwing the remote when he'd run out of cough drops to chuck at Sam. He'd been sure it hadn't hit the window to hard… before it plummeted behind the dresser. "No I didn't." he said defiantly.

"Whatever." Sam headed out the door. "Just try not to do anything stupid."

Dean watched him go, loathing Sam's every movement. His head hurt, his limbs ached, and god how he hated the feel of snot constantly running down his nose. He tore out another tissue and threw back his covers. Wobbling slightly, he got out of bed and went to poke around the room for some entertainment. He cursed Sam's cleanliness, none of the knives needed sharpening, none of the guns needed to be cleaned, and all the decent magazines had been thrown out.

Shivering, he quickly retrieved Sam's laptop and dove back under the covers. He pulled on one of Sam's dopey extra large sweat shirts and nestled in a mound of pillows as he surfed the internet half heartedly.

He ended up doing one of those searches. Where you just type in your name and see what comes up.

D-e-a-n, he pecked at the key board, W-i-n-c-h-e-s-t-e-r. And on second thought he added, _most bad ass man on the planet. _

He wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve as he waited impatiently for the computer to load. On the night stand was some tea Sam had left him. He was sipping on it when the page finally displayed the results. He spewed tea everywhere when he noticed the first thing listed was called _fan fiction. _

"Oh my god." He breathed.

He clicked on the webpage timidly.

In glorious, and often graphic, details were the miscellaneous adventures of Sam and Dean that exposed their lives (and sometimes more) for the world to see. Dean started sweating profusely as he clicked on the first story.

It'd looked amusing when the title proclaimed, _Bat Out of Hell, _but he was quickly stunned to discover the plot. It described vividly his journey from Hell, but Dean's hero was described as a red-headed, blue-eyed, dashing angel- the envy of the entire garrison.

Dean quirked an eyebrow. He only remembered Castiel walking into the Rack to save him. The more he thought about, the more he remembered that there had been other angels in Hell that day. But they'd been fighting, not helping Dean undo his soul's chains.

Dean read more of the story engrossed by the chaotic description the author painted of the gritty fight through Hell. Castiel was in the second half, flying small circles around the red head and singing praise. Dean snorted at the weak battle descriptions. He chortled at the image of Cerberus whimpering in front of the angels. But he gagged at the last lines-

_"Why thank you," Dean said breathlessly as he was set down on earth. _

_"It's just what I do." Said the ruggedly handsome Archie as he flew off into the sunset._

_"My hero." Dean sighed as he started to search for his useless brother Sam. _

_The End_

"What the fuck?" Dean stared at the computer screen. He clicked **review** angrily.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Archie clapped his hands excitedly when he saw his email. He clicked to see what review he had received. Just as he started to read it a hand tapped on his shoulder. He turned around with a sigh. "What is it Chuck?"

Castiel crossed his arms over his chest. "Ahem."

"Oh, hey Castiel…" Archie quickly exited out of his story. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to make sure you were clear on a few things." Castiel said as he surveyed the room, he picked up a beer and swallowed it one gulp. He threw it down. "You were the garrison's water boy in Hell before we put you in charge of guarding the Prophet."

Archie held up his hands. "I didn't say anything otherwise."

Castiel glared. He pointed at the computer screen where the story reopened. "My wings are not purple or sparkly and I will not hesitate to smite you."

Archie rolled his eyes. "C'mon, it was all in good fun!"

Castiel shook his head.

"Alright, alright," Archie moved the mouse, "I'm fixing it."

Castiel snorted. "Good."

As Archie was about to hit _delete, _Castiel yelled, "Wait."

"Yes?" Archie hissed.

"Let me try it."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

When Sam walked back into the hotel room Dean was shaking on the bed. "What's the matter?" he asked throwing down the clean laundry.

"F-f-f-fan f-f-fiction." Dean trembled.

Sam sat down on the bed next to Dean and patted his shoulder.

"Oh, Dean relax, I wrote that only when I was bored one day in college." Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm not obsessed with _Angel _anymore."

Dean looked at him horrified. "That's not what I—Really?"

Sam blushed. "Never mind."

He picked up his laptop. "What did you see?"

Dean clicked on the _Angels Anonymous'_ profile. "It's awful, Sam…and they keep updating…"

"Oh please," Sam rolled his eyes. "It can't be—oh my god."

Dean picked up his tissue box and handed one to Sam.

"Castiel's wings are purple?" he asked Dean.

"No, no," Dean pointed to the screen, "they clear that up in chapter two when Archie fights a dragon with only his fists…"

Sam slammed the laptop shut. "Dean?"

"Yeah?"

Sam glanced at the computer. "Can we post fan fiction about Castiel?"

Dean picked up his tea and sipped on it thoughtfully. "I don't see why not."

Sam smiled. "Well then, I've go a few ideas…"

"This is great!" Dean grinned. "I feel better already."

**To Be Continued**


	2. A Hero's Worth

**A Hero's Worth **by Sam and Dean Winchester (with a little help by me)

Castiel ran in circles as his lithe ferret form wove around the motel room. He squeaked and tried to take flight once more. His black wings, now only three inches from wing tip to wing tip, failed to support his brown freckled body.

He huffed and went to inspect his surroundings.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Sam bit his lip and looked at the blinking cursor. Dean walked in from the kitchen with a fresh cup of tea and plopped down on the bed. "Well?" Dean asked sipping the hot tea. "What do we have so far?"

"He's a ferret." Sam frowned. "That's were I got stuck."

Dean smiled, "I know a great joke about ferrets! So like, there is these two ferrets in a bar and one's really drunk and he yells at the sober one…"

"Dean." Sam huffed. "Not now. Fan fiction is more important."

Dean nodded. "True. Here, let me see. I've got an idea…"

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Castiel raised himself on his hind legs and scoured the room. He scurried over to the duffle bag that was thrown on the floor. Jumping inside it he dug past the raunchy magazines, the holy water, the bible, the rabbit's foot, until he found the hex bag.

He squeaked joyously as he grasped it by his teeth and tugged at it until it came out of the duffle bag. Carefully he dragged it to the center of the room.

He gnawed on the string holding it together until it broke apart. The smell of chicken was immediately apparent to his miniaturized senses. But no! He would not be distracted by a tasty bone; he had to figure out where the witch had taken Sam when they had left Dean sorely beaten in the arcade they had all been playing at.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Sam took the laptop back. He glanced at the screen then up at Dean. "Really?" Sam rolled his eyes. "Witches are _so _over done."

Dean crossed his arms. "You're just pissed because a witch kicked your ass."

"What are you talking about!" Sam threw his hands in the air.

"Give me the laptop and you'll see." Dean said wiggling his eyebrows. He sneezed loudly in Sam's face.

"Ew!" Sam groaned. "No! Let me show you what a real villain is."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

As Castiel opened his mouth to squeak out the counter curse in some sort of ferret-Latin hybrid language a Wendigo kicked down the door. It's gaunt frame towered over the whimpering ferret as it sauntered inside growling.

Castiel frantically flapped his small wings to no avail. He dived under the bed terrified for his small life. Above him the ferocious beast sniffed out its prey. Using its long thin claws it tore apart the motel searching for its next meal.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Dean started laughing so hard he started coughing again, turning bright red in the face. After Sam calmed him down with cherry lozenges he said "That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever read."

Sam huffed. "Please. You were almost Wendigo bait, you know this right."

Dean swallowed his lozenge. "No. It was worse. Now give me the damn computer I'm gonna show you that older does mean better."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

After satisfying itself with a cheeseburger, the beast hunkered away. Castiel sighed happily and returned back to his ferret toy, the cursed hex bag. After batting it around, he realized that his ferret body was greatly affecting his thoughts.

He fought for impulse control as every urge in his body told him that is was perfectly acceptable to claw at Dean's shirts. Focusing with every ounce of strength he had he conjured what little was left of his angel powers to undo the spell.

With a small pop, he vanished.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"It is now sadly apparent why you flunked second grade English." Sam said while shaking his head.

"Ha ha Sam." Dean said dryly as he pressed save.

"Just give it to me," Sam held out his hand, "go get soup while I put an end to this."

Dean glared but did as he was told. Sam leaned forward and began to type.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Sam struggled valiantly against his bonds. His captor walked into the room. She brushed her long curly blonde bangs back her forehead so she could stare at him with her icy blue eyes. "We've got you now," she took in a deep breath, "Sam Winchester."

"You'll never hold me down." He said grimily.

"What makes you say that?" She said advancing.

Sam smiled devilishly at her. "Because you want me."

The witch rolled her eyes. "Please… why would I…"

She looked him up and down, admiring every detail of his physique. "Well, I... you're… my name is Giselle."

At that moment, Sam's hard work was rewarded as he undid the triple knot holding his wrists together. He stood up and swept her into his arms. "Giselle," he said looking into her eyes, "you didn't choose this life. I can tell you're not that evil, this spell you're working on wouldn't have worked anyway. Stay with me."

Giselle looked up at him and thought about it briefly. "Is that a gun in your pocket?"

"Well, yes," Sam said frankly, "I did come here to fight evil. But you're not evil."

She kissed him happily.

Dean burst into the room. "I got here in the knick of time and I have a gun!"

Sam pulled apart from Giselle's kiss. "Good job, Dean. Meanwhile my brain, with no help from your brawn, effectively solved this case and eliminated the threat."

He smacked Giselle's ass. "Isn't that right baby?"

The formerly evil witch giggled.

Castiel reappeared into the room and fell into Dean's shoulder. Dean screamed, "Holy crap! There's a ferret on my shoulder! Get it off! Get it off!"

With a flick of his hand Castiel was thrown across the room. He landed with a thud on the opposing wood wall. As he started to fall his wings began to flap faster than a humming bird's, keeping him airborne.

Dean huffed as Castiel flew circles around his head. He squeaked angrily at Dean.

Giselle kissed Sam on the cheek. "I can change him back, you know."

Sam looked at Dean, who was trying to swat away the flying ferret. "Nah. It's fine."

Castiel nipped at Dean's ear.

Sam looked at Giselle. "No really, they're good like that."

She hugged him. "You're my hero."

Sam ran a hand through his thick gorgeous hair and tossed it over his shoulder with a dazzling smile. "And don't you ever forget it."

_The End_

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"So, how'd it end?" Dean asked from the kitchen table as he slurped on his alphabet soup.

"You're the hero." Sam said without looking up from the computer screen.

"Good." Dean looked down at his bowl and stirred his spoon until it spelled a-w-e-s-o-m-e in nice edible letters. "That's how they all end."

After a couple clicks, Sam had an account and was uploading the document. "Alright, let's post this."

Dean carefully swallowed the letters w, i, and n. "Don't we need a beta?"

"No! This is perfect! Everything makes sense!" Sam reassured him.

Dean smiled. "Alrighty then!"

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Archie clicked on the recent stories. He and Castiel were immediately intrigued by _A Hero's Worth _and started to read it. Archie broke out in a fit of giggles. "You're adorable!" he said in between laughs.

Castiel glared. "I don't think it's amusing at all to be a ferret."

"Are you kidding? They're so small and soft!" Archie cupped his hands together. "They fit in your hands just like so…"

"Well, if it's so easy why don't you do it?" Castiel snapped.

Archie looked up at him with big round eyes. He looked down at his furry red body and squeaked in surprise. "You bastard!" he wanted to say. Instead he squeaked furiously.

Chuck staggered downstairs. "Where's Archie?"

A small red ferret circled around Chuck's feet. Castiel shrugged. Chuck picked up the ferret. "I know a good joke about ferrets." He smiled moving the ferret's arms. "So two ferrets are in a bar. The drunk one says to the sober one…"

"I slept with your mother. I know, already." Castiel waved a dismissive hand and disappeared.

"That's not the punch line." Chuck frowned. Archie bit his nose.

Chuck dropped Archie, who miraculously landed on his feet. He clutched at his nose and frowned. "It's hard being a writer."

**The end **


End file.
